Change I Can Believe In

First, I need to apologize to my tens of readers for my laziness. I have neglected this blog, as I have my novel, my running, my guitar playing. I am a loser. Sadly, I have been okay with this period of relative inactivity. I accept it. A schlump is a schlump is a schlump.

But, never you fear: I have been doing SOMETHING. Yes...I have not been a total and complete bumb.

I have been reflecting back on my life with special emphasis on, but not limited to, my dating life.

Good times.

As you may know, I chased a few ghosts. What I learned is that, out there in this world, there are at least three men who, to this day, think I am the schnizit. Though they are married (TL), awaiting child (EJJ) or shacked up (WT) they compare their women to moi and moi wins.

Before you roll your eyes, please know that I too considered this 'game' but since none of these dudes lives anywhere near me and had nothing to gain for stuffing my ego, I am inclined to believe them.

Lest you think this post is a personal ass-kissing fest, let me be clear: though these dudes may think V.E.G aka ManEater aka CrazyMagnet is da bomb, she realizes that her shit is messy. Real messy.

Case in point: these dudes still got a jones for me. I have love for them but didn't love any of them. Not in that way (though some, I realize, came closer than others).

I have commitment issues. Real ones. I get bored with men, jobs, hell...even some friends...easily.

Not a good look.

Truth be told, the only things that I get continuous pleasure from day in and day out are my beloved shoes.

Well, the time has come to get to the bottom of this.

Yes, I've had some fun. And I have had some mind blowing sex. When I am old lady, I can reflect back and smile secretly to myself. The memories are worth their weight in gold.

But I am all about progress.

If I can't overcome this issue - this utter and complete inability to connect to something that will fuel me - then I ain't growin. And if I ain't growin, I might as well stop wasting air. Air should only be breathed by those who are truly passionate about their existence.

Don't get me wrong. There are things that excite me. I am gassed up about an AIDS project that I am working on. I dig my new gig. I have been doing a little writing. Hanging out with EJJ has inspired me, shamed me, really, to pick up the guitar again. Dying 15 miles into a marathon has convinced me that I need to get my arse in gear.

But I need that excitement to last beyond the idea phase and carry me through to completion. Sure, I've completed things I've started but the high I get is never enough.

V.E.G. doesn't want to spend her life chasing a buzz. Well, not a legal one anyway. Hehe.

I also realize that, sometimes, ok, all the time, I try to do TOO much. Learning to say no is a gift. Superwoman is a myth. And black superwomen die young. V.E.G. has too many boys to chase and too many shoes to buy to check out.

So, today, I start a new chapter in my life.

I am calling it the Resurgence Phase. It will have far reaching implications that affects both my personal and professional life.

Step 1: Text the two losers who, despite MONTHS with no reply keep calling and texting me, and ask them to stop contacting me. It is immature on my part to pretend like they don't exist. Yes, intelligent people would stop calling at some point. But it is clear that these two men are not intelligent. And I must treat them accordingly. This leads directly into...

Step 2: Stop messin' with unintelligent men. Pretty is as pretty does. I need more than that. Don't get me wrong: I looooves me a smart man. And the ones that have gone the farthest, i.e. my ghosts, have been pseudo-geniuses. But some of those who have filled the gaps have been oh so segzy but quite dense. I'm too bright for a dim bulb.

Step 3: No more stuff. V.E.G. likes to shop. Yes she does. I say this after engaging in a hefty spree that added 3 pairs of boots, 2 pairs of shoes, 2 pairs of jeans, 2 coats, a necklace, leather leggings and 2 dresses to my closet. And I like the good shit. High end but on sale (trust. Full price is not in my vocabulary). I can afford it. But I realize that I shop out of boredom and not need. I think that clearing my mind of the filler will help me open it up the greatness that I know the good Lord has in store for me. To that end, I have instituted a shopping moratorium. If it is not a necessity and it costs more than $40, I will NOT buy it. And I will not buy more than one unnecessary item per month for the next sixth months.

Step 4: Let fear go. Despite my reputation as a hard core street thug, I am often crippled by my fears. Time to leave that shit behind. Going forward, when I am afraid to do something and my flight or fight response kicks in, I will stand and, not only fight, I will KICK ASS.

So, there you have it. My fourth quarter resolutions. I'm sure I'll fall short on some of these but watch me as I try.

Cats are cool. V.E.G. wants to be cool, too.

Ghosts are stupid

Well, maybe men are. Or maybe it's just my male ghosts who are challenged?

Let me back up...

I am a modern day Ghostbuster...chasing down personal ghosts, zappin' 'em with my proton-pack, trying to exorcise them from my life.

Yup: I've been contacting men I've dated, well...men I've dated who've impacted me...to 'figure' some stuff out. There are four of them and, so far, I've hit up two (well, one was in town and hit me up. But I digress).

This one fool, TL, and, yes, I call him a fool and you shall see why, lives across the country. Is now married with two kids (I did NOT know this. Haven't spoken to him in six years). I looked him up on Linkedin and sent him an email TWO days ago. At first it was all good, nice and polite. Now I am getting emails asking me "Was being with me more than mere frivolity? Did I stir your soul? Are you thinking about the sexual heights we reached and are sorry you didn't explore more?"

NEGRO...I asked how old your kids were and if you had boys/girls or both! How did we get HERE?

He told me he couldn't ignore the green light to look into my soul. WTF?

Call me old fashioned, but I do not think these are appropriate questions for a married man to be asking. I said "hey...how have you been" and he sends me a sonnet. I ask him if his wunderlust has been cured-he used to speak of travel- and he replies "No, it hasn't and my answer has many meanings."

Get the fuck out of here.

This negro seems, at the very worse, primed to cheat, or, at the very least, shady as hell for spewing this kind of shit when he has a wife and two crumb snatchers at home. Maybe I am reading too much into it but I don't think I'd want MY husband telling some chick he proposed to TWICE that he wanted to look into her soul and asking her about sex.

So, yeah...I am getting a clear look into the man Mr. Lt. Commander has become and, frankly, am not feeling regret-ish about this one AT ALL.

I can't come up with a clever segue so I'm going to dive right into this next thing...

Over at Very Smart Brothas, folks are sitting in wet spots, reflecting on those lovers who had them so caught up that they lost their minds: freaking in their offices at work, steaming up windows in a parked cars behind $500,000 condos, getting busy in the Raw Bar's bathroom, touching pe-pes in public just to make sure it was still there and ready for you. Please know that I have not done any of these things. I just have an active imagination.

Thinking about being sprung makes me think about EJJ. One of my other ghosts. He happens to be in town. For five weeks. I told myself I was trying to do something different with my life. That I wasn't going to 'go there' with him. I was strong. I ignored the fact that he lost the weight he'd picked up the last time I saw him. I ignored all the new tattoos he'd gotten though they were hawt.

For 1.5 weeks there was a force field around me, making me immune to his segzy.

Sunday, though, was the day it came tumbling down.

We go to see his father's band play and, next thing you know, HE is on stage, playing keyboard (cutie plays 5 instruments) and singing about Jah Seed, Jah being the guiding light. All that good ish. I loves me some reggae. And I love a talented cutie.

I.was.done.

I was so done, I was making out on the street. If you knew me you'd know that I am not a PDA person so this by itself was shocking. What happened later was just down right derty. The car ride was, um, quite interesting. And hawt. I rolled home at 5 a.m., knowing I had to start work at 8:30. (Nevermind that work is done from my dining room table. I still had to get up and be alert).

Ain't no shame in this game.

But...this scares me. For real.

EJJ is on my top 1% list(y'all know what I'm talking about). If I lost my mind so quickly and so easily with him...I am terrified of confronting my other two ghosts.

WT now lives on the left coast so I seriously doubt I'll have an opportunity to bump uglies with him. But BJ? That fool haunts my regular haunts. He's been MIA for a while but he has a very bad habit of turning up JUST when I've erased him from my mind. I fear what will happen if we meet up, all Patron'd up.

Pray for my soul.

Today's score card: TL, representing for men=0, Cat = 123,590,213